


VIP Group B

by missdibley



Series: East Of The Sun, West Of The Moon [28]
Category: Tom Hiddleston - Fandom, Wallander (UK TV), Wallander (UK TV) RPF
Genre: Existing Relationship, F/M, Fluff, ace comic con midwest, au wallander, fangirling, samuel longfellow - Freeform, the evening concierge, wallander - Freeform, wallander au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-15
Updated: 2018-10-16
Packaged: 2019-08-02 18:15:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,028
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16310246
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/missdibley/pseuds/missdibley
Summary: At long last, Halla meets her muse: Samuel Longfellow ofThe Evening Concierge.





	1. The Photo

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, _The Evening Concierge_ is _The Night Manager_ in Halla and Magnus's universe.

Halla had been fine.

She was calm, placid, good natured. Throughout breakfast, closing up the house, going back to the house for Håkan’s baseball cap, Maggy and Magnus bickering over who was going to drive, the brief stop at the empanada place on Damen because nobody wanted cereal which was the only thing to eat that morning at the little house on Shakespeare and Oakley.

It was the last Saturday they were going to be together as a family before Maggy left for England. They should have gone to  [ Uncle Mike’s Place ](http://www.unclemikesplace.com/) for a lazy breakfast then walked Moomin over to the park for the annual neighborhood apple pie festival. It was a beautiful, brisk Saturday in October, made for scuffling through leaf piles and gathering twigs for the new fire pit in the backyard.

Instead, the four of them — Magnus, Halla, Maggy, and Håkan — were walking onto a convention floor at Navy Pier so Magnus and Håkan could buy comics, and Maggy could hold her mother’s hand as Halla finally got to meet her beloved Samuel Longfellow.

“Käraste?” Magnus kissed her temple. “What time is your photo again?”

“10:30, baby.” Halla looked at her badge, which featured Samuel’s headshot, almost in disbelief. “Group B.”

“Meet you after?”

“Assuming her soul doesn’t completely leave her body after he touches her, sure.” Maggy smirked.

“Magnolia.” Magnus frowned.

Halla shook her head. “It’s fine.” She shrugged. “I’m fine. Even if I have the worst daughter in the world.”

Magnus gave Halla another kiss, then allowed Håkan to drag him over to a booth where boys his age were playing video games. Maggy gave her mother a look.

“Mom, you look pretty,” she said, sweetly.

“It’s not too much?” Halla smoothed down the skirt of her dress, a dark blue print with a pleated skirt that fell to her knees. 

Maggy shook her head. “It’s perfect.”

Mother and daughter navigated the crowds, holding hands, and arrived at a row of metal detectors. Just before them was an electronic display of the various celebrity guests’ and their schedules. Maggy scanned the list, while Halla checked her lipstick.

“They spelled his name wrong,” Maggy said with a grin. “It says Samuel  _ Lungfollow _ in every single entry.”

“Oh god. Really?” When Halla said it for herself, she tutted. “Well, let’s hope they got the times right.”

Maggy squinted at the sign. “Okay, ma — we can start lining up now. Line 33. Just to the left.” When Halla made no reply, Maggy turned around. “Ma?”

Halla stood frozen in the middle of the crowd, her eyes saucer-like as she stared at a tall, slim figure that leaned over a balcony, observing the convention floor. She didn’t respond, even when Maggy took her by the shoulders and whispered “Mama?”

“He’s up there, Mags.” Halla squeaked.

Maggy turned, finding the dark figure that had now turned and was walking away. “That was him?”

“Yes, Maggy.”

“How could you tell?”

“I just know,” Halla said grimly. When she took a step back, Maggy sputtered.

“Mom, where are you…”

Halla blinked. “I don’t think I can do this.”

“Mom.” Maggy grabbed her mother’s hand, halting Halla’s retreat. “It’s going to be fine.”

“This was a mistake,” Halla muttered, more to herself.

“It isn’t.” Maggy drew herself to her full height. “Mom, Samuel Longellow is your muse. He’s the inspiration behind all that fan fiction you won’t let me read. And that fan fiction is what got you into fiction writing, and now you write children’s books about Moomin. Books that people all over the world buy and read.”

“And about you.” Halla reached up and stroked Maggy’s cheek. “I write them about you.”

“Yes, but it’s not me that has a real fan club, okay?” She crossed her arms and pretending to pout.”It’s the dog.”

Halla laughed, and pulled Maggy in for a hug. “I love you.”

“Me, too.” Maggy nudged her mother back to the metal detector. “Do it for me, yeah? Or better yet, do it for Moomin.”

So Halla got in line, where she stood with Maggy for minutes that felt like hours. And the longer she stood there, the more she felt that she was not ready. To meet her muse, to touch him and smell him and say  _ Hello _ and hear him say  _ Hello _ and perhaps even say her name. All this despite Maggy keeping up a steady stream of chatter to ground her.

Because Sam Longfellow was waiting for her, just a few feet away, concealed by black curtains and protected by security staff. He was waiting for Halla to stumble in, and take a picture with him like a normal person instead of the unraveling bundle of nerves in a brand new dress from J. Crew. But before she could bolt, Maggy crushed her hand.

“Magnolia, what are you…?” Halla was startled to look up and find Magnus smiling at her. “Baby, what are you doing here?’

“Maggy thought you might need me.”

“Where is she?”

“She’s with her brother, using her emergency credit card to buy themselves matching Pokemon onesies.”

“Oh god…” Halla moaned.

“Ma’am?” A burly man with a shaved head and a friendly smile beckoned. “You’re holding up the line.”

“I’m sorry, I can go…” Halla attempted to turn around but was thwarted when Magnus took her in his arms and kissed her hard. When he broke the kiss, Halla was smiling.

“Ready?” The burly man took her ticket and stepped aside to let them pass.

A guard waved Magnus and Halla closer, then held up his hand for them to pause. “Just a moment and…” He appeared to do a double take when he saw Magnus. “Has anyone ever told you that you look just like…?”

“Well, my love here does all the time.” Magnus chuckled. “But I don’t see it.”

“Really?” The guard looked incredulously at Halla, who laughed.

“Well, I’m clean shaven, and he’s got the beard and all…” Magnus tried to explain.

The guard nodded at a few people standing behind them. “They would seem to disagree…”

Magnus turned just in time to see a few giggling girls pointing and whispering “Evening concierge” and “Stephen Elm”. When they waved, he smiled.

The guard glanced into the photo area, then grinned. “Okay, folks. It’s time.”

“Oh fuck…” Halla said, peering ahead. She could see the silhouette of a tall man, wide shoulders and slim hipped, turning toward her. Behind her, Halla heard her husband chuckle and say “Let’s go, käraste.” before she felt him take her hand and pull her into the light.

* * *

As soon as she got her father’s text, Maggy grabbed Håkan’s hand and ran with him to the exit from the photo op area. She could see a line of printers spitting out glossy pictures, but not her parents. Then she heard her father’s voice, or more specifically, her father’s laughter.

“Dad, are you giddy?” Magnolia was pleased. “I thought Swedish people couldn’t do that.”

She was relieved to see her mother looking normal, if a bit bashful. Her cheeks were pink, but she couldn’t stop smiling. Magnus had his arm around her, and looked proud.

“Well?” Maggy’s eyes sparkled as she examined their faces. “How did it go?’

“Awful!” Halla cried just as Magnus said “It was PERFECT.”

Håkan simply frowned. “What happened?”

“Your mother was an angel, I’d like to point out,” Magnus declared.

“I was an idiot,” Halla corrected him. “I could barely remember my own name.”

“You should have seen the look on her face when he greeted her by it.”

Hall scowled. “What look?”

“This one.” Magnus assumed a dreamy expression, blinking slowly and biting his lip.

“I hate you,” Halla muttered.

“I love you,” Magnus replied.

“But that’s not even the best part,” Halla said, putting her arm around Håkan.

“What was that?” He asked.

“He got it.” Halla nodded. “He finally got it.”

“Got what?” Maggy asked. When Halla raised her eyebrows, Maggy gasped. “Really? Finally?”

“Got what?” Håkan asked impatiently.

“Samuel Longfellow is the spitting image of me,” Magnus said airily.

“And it only took you eighteen years to see the resemblance,” retorted Maggy.

“Eighteen years, and a meeting, apparently.” Halla shook her head. “Once I emerged from my stupor, I discovered Sam and your father in this weird standoff. Just  _ looking _ at each other. And then Sam held out his hand, your father shook it, and they just laughed.”

“Well, that sounds promising.” Maggy said.

“I still don’t see it,” Håkan grumbled.

“Just wait.” Magnus held up a photograph, the back of it to Maggy and Håkan. “He’s a great fellow. Actually hugged your mother, and this was  _ before _ the photograph.”

Maggy whistled. “Mom, you’re going to write about this, right?”

“Maggy!” Halla narrowed her eyes, but her mouth was still curled in a smile.

“We had to get going, but your mother didn’t know how she wanted the photo to look.”

“Not her wrapped in Sam’s arms while you pretended to look mad?” Maggy reached for the picture, but Magnus pulled it away.

“Mama didn’t know, so I… or rather, Sam and I helped her.”

“Show it!”

Maggy hopped around, whining even as Magnus took one last look, showed it to Halla, who closed her eyes and, without a word, pushed it at her daughter.

In it, Halla stands in the center, head tossed to one side so her salt and pepper hair tumbles over her left shoulder. Hip cocked so the skirt of her dress is caught mid-swirl, around her knees. She is flanked by them — Magnus on her right, Sam on her left — with her hands holding them both at the hip. Her smile is satisfied, just short of being smug while the two men, her husband and her muse, look at the camera with identical boyish smiles.


	2. The Autograph

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Still at the con, Halla prepares for her next meeting with Samuel Longfellow to get his autograph.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This goes from fluff to straight up fairy tale. Hope that's okay. :)

Almost as soon as she felt herself come back to earth, back from the ecstatic state where she had floating since her photo with her muse, Sam, and her beloved, Magnus, Halla had to get into the queue for her autograph. Maggy kept her company, the two of them splitting an order of nachos while Magnus and Håkan got them all something cold to drink.

“Lemme see it again.” Maggy wiped her hand off on her jeans before taking the souvenir photo from Halla. Her nose scrunched up, a sure sign of pleasure, as she examined it.

“He’s cute, Ma.” She pecked her mother on the cheek. “You’re so ridiculous.”

“I know,” Halla sighed.

“And he’s  _ almost _ forgiven for that bullshit with She Who Must Not Be Named two summers ago…” Maggy said, arching an eyebrow.

“Magnolia Bettina Martinsson!” Halla’s brow furrowed. “Stop that.”

Maggy, still holding the photograph and the nachos in her hands, carefully put her arms around Halla’s shoulders. “Stop what? Being protective of my own mother?”

“Nice try, darling daughter, but it sounds like pettiness to me.”

Maggy simply hummed before freeing her mother from her embrace so she could return the photograph, and eat the last of the nachos. Her eyes lit up when she spotted her father and brother returning with cokes for all of them.

“So have you texted Aunt Helen yet?” Maggy nodded at the picture. “Didn’t she want a picture of the picture?”

“Oh! Right.” Halla found her phone and began to compose a text message.

“How are they…” Magnus cleared his throat. “How is Helen doing?”

“Okay.” Halla squared her shoulders. “Better.”

“Do you think maybe I shouldn’t…?” Maggy began to ask.

“No!” Halla shot her daughter a reassuring smile. “Helen and Violet, the boys are  _ so _ excited for you to visit.”

“And Bill,” Håkan cackled. “Don’t forget your  _ boyfriend _ .”

“Stop being a pest.” Maggy grabbed her brother and messed with his hair. “You know you like Bill.”

“Yes, but you  _ love _ him…” Håkan shrieked with laughter when Maggy began to tickle him.

And then a murmur ran through the crowd when Samuel appeared, escorted by the same guards as before. Walking to the area where he’d be signing, he paused before going in and raised his takeaway coffee cup to the crowd in salute.

“Ready?” Magnus winked at Halla. “Maybe I should sign our photograph before  _ he _ does?”

“Funny,” drawled Halla. “Very funny.”

A serious looking man in a convention staff uniform of black polo and khaki shorts went down the line, writing down names of fans on sticky notes so Samuel would spell each name correctly while signing. When he got to the Martinssons, he cocked his head. “You all got something to sign?”

“Just me,” Halla held up her picture. “They’re with me.”

“The kid stays.” He squinted at Magnus and Maggy. “But only one other adult.”

“Oh!” Halla pleaded. “But she’s leaving home next week, and…”

“No can do,” he interrupted.

“It’s alright, love.” Magnus leaned down to kiss Halla. “Alright if I wait over there, by the authentication blokes?”

The man with the pad shrugged. “Suit yourself.”

Halla shot him a confused look, but the man had already waved her and the children along. Magnus watched them pause at the entrance, laughing to himself as Halla and Maggy both twirled a lock of hair around their right index fingers at the same time. A flash went off out of the corner of his eye, and so he turned to find a smiling girl wielding a camera.

“Did you know that you look just like…?” She began to lisp when Magnus began to shake with laughter.

Inside the autograph area, Maggy took in the setup. Samuel sat at the end of a long table, hunched over a poster he was signing with care for a breathless girl covered in tattoos. To his left sat two convention staffers, one to take Halla’s ticket and another to inspect the sticky note that bore her name. Håkan trailed behind Halla, munching a churro that left a train of sugary crumbs on the floor behind him.

Maggy snuck a sideline glance at Samuel, who smiled patiently as the breathless girl exclaimed over her newly signed poster and thanked him effusively in a torrent of words. Maggy was caught when he turned his head, saw her smiling at him, and nodded.

“Are you next?” Samuel asked her.

Maggy stomach flipped. He looked like her boyfriend Bill, and like her father Magnus, and like her erstwhile uncle Oakley, but at the same time he looked like nobody she had never seen. From the top of his head with its impressive swoop of ginger curls down his impossibly long, lithe body to the bottom of his dusty gray boot-clad feet, Samuel Longfellow glowed like only a movie star could.

_ Oh, _ Maggy thought to herself.  _ I think I get it now. _

“Mags?” Halla appeared at her daughter’s side. “You okay?”

“Huh?” Maggy snapped out of her reverie, just in time to notice that Samuel appeared to be holding back a chuckle. “Oh god…”

“Ladies?” The staffer passed Halla’s item down to Samuel, sniffing in his direction as if to say,  _ Let’s move this along, shall we? _

And so they did, watching as Samuel’s long fingers opened the book before him. “What is this…?” he said, flipping it over to inspect the cover. “Agatha Aaronson Saves The Day”?

“I know it’s weird but, um, I was inspired by  _ The Evening Concierge _ when I wrote that.”

Samuel’s jaw dropped. “What?”

Halla smiled, a bit uncertain. “I know there’s a bit of distance to be made between an English undercover agent and a Swedish-Filipino girl solving neighborhood mysteries with her dog but…”

Samuel set the book down, looking at Halla closely. “ _ You’re _ Marti Martens?”

Halla smiled. “It’s my pen name, yes.”

“My niece  _ loves _ your books.” Samuel shook his head in disbelief. “She can’t put them down.”

“Oh, that’s wonderful to hear!” Halla exclaimed. “I’m so glad.”

Samuel turned and smiled at Maggy. “So that must make you Agatha.”

“Yeah,” replied Maggy.

Samuel extended his hand to Håkan, who pushed between Halla and Maggy. “So that makes you Osvald.”

Håkan grinned. “Pleased to make your acquaintance.”

Samuel rubbed his face. “So your husband Magnus…”

Halla nodded. “He’s Gerhard, Agatha’s father.”

“So you are Bettina.” Samuel got to his feet, came around to the front of the table and peeked down at their feet. “I don’t suppose Hippo is here.”

“He’s at home.” Maggy fumbled for her phone, then held it out to Samuel to show him a picture of Moomin napping under the dining room table.

“Can I…?” Samuel looked at the girl with the tickets. “Could you go check if there is a gentleman waiting for this charming family just outside?”

She popped up, glancing nervously at the security guard who was wondering why he hadn’t yet been permitted to admit the next group of fans. “Um… who?”

Samuel waved his hand. “Just look for the guy who looks like, well, me.”

When Magnus appeared, he shook Samuel’s outstretched hand. “Pleasure to see you again, sir.”

“Mr. Martinsson, I had no idea.” He shook his head. “My niece is a great fan of your wife’s books. It’s an honor to meet all of you.”

Magnus’s eyes shone with pride. “Yes. It is.”

“Magnus!” Halla elbowed her husband.

Samuel fumbled, running his hands over his thighs and backside as he searched his pockets. “I’m shameless enough to beg for a note to my niece, but I’m not sure I have anything you can sign.”

“Wait, aren’t I supposed to be getting your autograph?” Halla couldn’t help teasing.

“Of course!” Samuel laughed. “But it would mean so much to her. And to me.”

“Here.” Halla dug around in her satchel, producing a sheet of paper. “Sorry this is wrinkled but it’s all I’ve got.”

“What’s that?” Maggy leaned in, smiling when she saw what it was. “Aw!”

Halla flattened it out on the table, then picked up a marker to begin writing her note. “It’s not much. Just the a mock-up of the cover of the next Aggy book.”

“What?” Samuel gasped when he peeked at it.

“It’ll be out late next year.” She uncapped the marker and held it just over the papera. “So… what’s your niece’s name?”


End file.
